


The Things You Can Learn at a Forensics Convention

by VicXntric



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicXntric/pseuds/VicXntric
Summary: Take a couple of young, highly-competitive CSI-II’s. Trap them in a Wisconsin snowstorm. Let simmer.Set pre-Pilot.Written in 2007.





	The Things You Can Learn at a Forensics Convention

"I think you took the wrong exit."

Warrick gritted his teeth. He _knew_ he had probably taken the wrong exit and didn't need Nick reminding him. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. It's not like that's our only shot at getting back to the interstate." Brave words, and _technically_ true, but they didn't mean a whole lot when he was so unfamiliar with the area.

If this had been Las Vegas, or nearly anywhere else in Nevada, Warrick knew he would have been able to find his way back to the I-15 with his eyes closed. Of course, that didn't do him a hell of a lot of good when he was trying to find his way back onto the I-94 in order to get to Madison from Milwaukee. What's more, if this _had_ been Nevada, he wouldn't be trying to do it with snow swirling in every direction.

"Maybe I should drive," Nick offered. "You aren't used to this much snow--you grew up in Vegas."

"And I suppose you got shitloads of this stuff dumped on you down in Texas."

Nick snorted. "It's just that this is a rental and who knows what they'll charge if you bring it back with a cracked steering wheel."

"Cracked steering wheel?"

"Well, the way you're white-knuckling the sucker--"

"You think you're being helpful?" 

"Sorry," Nick said, and subsided briefly. "It's..." he sounded reluctant. "It's gotten worse, hasn't it?"

"Yep."

"We could have missed the last on ramp miles back."

"I know."

"How far do you think we are? More than halfway, yeah?"

"I don't think we're even halfway yet." Warrick hated to admit it, but it was the truth. 

"Seriously?" Nick checked his watch. "We've been driving for more than an hour."

"I know, but we've been crawling along most of that time."

"That's true." Nick leaned forward in an attempt to peering through the windshield. "Damn. And it was so clear when we left Madison, too."

Clear and still and perfect, and it had stayed that way for the entire drive from Madison to Milwaukee. By the time they were ready for their return trip it had been snowing heavily, but Warrick could still see a good distance ahead of him. For the past hour, the snow had increased and the wind had picked up so that there were times when all Warrick could see was a wall of white. It was disconcerting, and each time it happened, Warrick would ease even further back off the accelerator. He'd heard and read plenty about winter driving, but theory wasn't doing much good in their situation.

"Whose bright idea was to send us to a forensics convention in Wisconsin in _February_?" Warrick demanded, needing someone to blame for their predicament.

"The next one isn't until August--in Chicago. I don't know about you, but I'm planning on being a CSI-III before then and I need these seminars to qualify."

Warrick merely grunted because Nick knew damn well that he was planning on the same thing. They were both racking up the necessary cases fairly evenly, and there was no way of telling who would qualify first. "Well, who the hell planned the damn thing in Wisconsin?"

"I don't think they figured on anyone driving into Milwaukee to see the Mavs play the Bucks."

The guy was just full of helpful observations, Warrick thought sourly. There was no point in denying it, though. They had finished with their seminars at three-thirty and didn't have another until the next afternoon. Warrick had doubted that Madison had much in the way of nightlife to compete with what he was used to, so when he found out the Dallas Mavericks were in Milwaukee to play the Bucks, he immediately mentioned it to Nick and suggested they try getting some tickets. NBA games were one of the few forms of entertainment _not_ readily available in Las Vegas, and Warrick had figured it would be well worth the price of a couple of tickets and the 90 minute drive. Nick had been all for it, so his words now riled Warrick a bit. "What are you saying? That this is my fault?"

"What?" Nick frowned at him. "No. No, I really wanted to see the game, too. I'm just saying-- _whoa_!"

"Fuck!" Warrick tightened his grip on the wheel as the car began to fishtail wildly. He took his foot completely of the accelerator trying to steer into the skid even though instinct made him want to spin the wheel the other way. After what seemed like an eternity, the car slowed to a near-halt, perpendicular to the direction they'd been going. Carefully, Warrick drove toward the shoulder--he hoped it was the shoulder--to wait until his heart slowed to its usual rate. "Hell."

"You okay?" Nick asked.

Warrick nodded.

"Good driving. You--hey, there's another road here." Nick leaned forward to get a better look out the windshield.

Warrick followed his example. Visibility was slightly better at the moment with the snow now blowing in the same direction they were pointed instead of across them and there did seem to be another road. Still..."That's not going to get us back to Madison."

"No, but I think we'd have a better chance of finding somewhere to stay down that way. It might be better to wait this out--it's bound to let up by morning and we'd have time to get back for our seminar."

The idea was nearly as tempting as the game had been, except for a major hitch. "We can't be sure it's a road. I don't want to be driving off into the middle of nowhere."

His only answer was a cold gust of wind as Nick got out of the car and quickly disappeared into darkness and swirling snow. Warrick debated going after him, but before he could make up his mind, Nick's form crossed the headlight beams again. A second gust of wind, and Nick was back in the passenger seat. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Warrick demanded.

Nick was too busy rubbing his arms and blowing on his hands to answer immediately. "It's a road," he finally said, his teeth still chattering slightly. "And I could still see tire tracks."

Which meant it hadn't been very long since someone had traveled down it.

"What do you want to do?" Nick asked. "I think we should take it, but..."

Warrick considered briefly. Their chances of finding the on-ramp to the freeway were pretty much nil, and they had barely encountered any traffic on their current road. Here was proof of something--or at the very least, some _one_. Another moment's hesitation, and then he put the car in gear and started down the new road.

After crawling along for nearly an hour, Warrick was seriously regretting the decision. Nick seemed to sense his mood and remained silent, which was probably for the best--Warrick was ready to tell Nick _exactly_ what he thought of this bright idea.

"Turn off the lights for a second," Nick said suddenly.

"Because we aren't lost enough?" Warrick shot back.

"I think I see lights out there," irritation had begun to seep into Nick's voice as well. "It'll be easier to tell with the lights off, but hey, if you want to risk passing a stop, just keep on driving."

Muttering under his breath about another new idea from Nick and their situation in general, Warrick nonetheless slowed to a stop and killed the lights, praying no one crashed into them. He peered across Nick and out the passenger side and sure enough, there was a glow in the distance. It was stationary, but there was no way of telling what it was and Warrick didn't want to get his hopes up.

"If you drive slowly, maybe we'll be able to see the turn off," Nick suggested.

"Yeah, 'cause I've just been firin' along so far," Warrick drawled in return. He turned the lights back on and started driving. If he was now going even slower, that was nobody's damn business.

Nick was leaning as far forward as possible, and if not for the impossible angle, Warrick was sure the Texan's nose would have been pressed to the windshield. He refrained from commenting though, since he was hunched over the steering wheel in much the same manner.

"There!" Nick exclaimed. "There, I think those are tracks! Turn, turn!"

"I seem 'em," Warrick growled. He made a right turn, and once again the snow was blowing across the car. The lights were still there, though, and as they got closer a huge shape appeared to the right of the car. The name wasn't visible, but it was clearly a sign for a motel.

"Who's the man?" Nick let out a whoop.

Warrick was so relieved to have found civilization that he let that one go. It was all good, except for a white banner plastered across the main part of the sign. If the snow would let up just a bit, they would be able to read--

"Closed!?" Nick sounded deeply offended.

Stifling a grin, Warrick continued driving. Now a long low structure and cars appeared amidst the white wash. "Who care's what the sign says? There's definitely people here and the lights are on. That's good enough for me." He got as close to the building as the snow drifts would allow, but they still had to flounder through the biggest ones in order to make it into the smallest, barest bones motel office Warrick had ever seen.

They were both stomping and sweeping to rid themselves of the snow when the "staff only" door opened and a bearded man walked through. He was thin and wiry and looked only mildly surprised to see them. "Where were you two headed?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Madison," Warrick said.

"From Milwaukee," Nick added, and Warrick knew he was stressed because there was a little extra twang in his voice.

The man raised his brows and nodded slowly. "Ain't used to this kinda weather, huh?"

Warrick smiled wryly at the understatement. "You open?"

"Been closed since the fall. I was just here checking on the place for the owner when the storm started."

"We saw other cars out there," Nick said.

"Yep. Lot of people got caught in the storm" He leaned against the solid block of the desk, "Look, the heat in this place just goes on enough to keep the building in decent shape and the further down from this office you are, the colder it'll be, but it's probably still better than trying to stick out the storm in your car." He turned and took one the remaining half-dozen keys off its hook. "Thirty bucks."

From the corner of his eye, Warrick saw Nick's expression darken, so he quickly pulled out his wallet and handed over three tens. "Thanks," he nodded, scooping up the key and herding Nick toward the door before the Texan could say anything.

Then it was another trudge through the snow to number five, where Warrick let them into their room for the night. Like the office, it was clean and well-maintained, but painfully plain. Sitting on the room's only bed--the single rigid chair was not inviting--Warrick debated taking off his coat as he watched Nick unhappily prowl the tiny space. 

Nick tried the television--it didn't work, but fortunately the room's only lamp did--gave the nondescript desk a quick look, and peeked into the tiny closet before walking into the equally tiny bathroom. "No water," he called and emerged a moment later.

They had worked together enough that Warrick could tell Nick was trying to maintain his cool even though he was pissed off. What Warrick didn't understand was why Nick thought he had to bother when it was just the two of them. He couldn't help poking a little--"You owe me fifteen bucks for the room."

That was enough to do it. "I can't believe you just forked over the cash like that! That jerk had no right to charge us thirty bucks for...this!" Nick gestured around him in disgust. "No TV! No water! Barely any heat! And he has the nerve to ask for money!"

"Supply and demand," Warrick shrugged easily. At another time, it might have bothered him just as much, but his mood had improved once he was no longer behind the wheel and could relax a little. Besides, Nick was doing enough complaining for the both of them.

"What if we hadn't had the money? What if people get stuck here with no money? Does he just kick them back out into the storm?"

"Maybe he gives them one of the bad rooms."

Nick made a disgusted sound and dropped onto the bed as well. "This sucks."

"What will suck is if this doesn't let up in time for us to get back to the conference."

"Shit."

Warrick wasn't sure what possessed him, but he couldn't resist mentioning a bright side--something that was normally more Nick's style. "Least it was a good game."

"It definitely wasn't worth _this_!" Nick shot back, then fell silent for a few minutes. "Maybe if the Mavs had won..."

A tiny chuckle escaped Warrick.

"Seriously, do you think we might not make it back in time for our seminar?"

"How should I know?"

Nick glanced toward the room's lone window, but didn't bother getting up to open the curtains. "It's bound to be a little better by then. Or at least it'll be easier to drive through."

"You hope."

Sighing, Nick hung his head. "Oh, man," he muttered. "If Grissom finds out about this..."

"Finds out what? That we can't control the weather? I think he knows that." When Nick only gave him a baleful look, Warrick continued, "It's not like we did anything wrong. We had a free evening and a free morning. It's not like we passed up any required seminars--there were only a few panels going on. We weren't missing anything. You're acting like we ditched something." Nick's expression still didn't change. Although it had been amusing at first, Warrick didn't want to be stuck in this little room with someone who was going to mope the entire time, so he decided to change the subject. "Man, I'd hate to see what you'd be like if we _had_ skipped something. How did you ever handle cutting class in school? Wait--I'll bet you never cut class in school, right?"

"Oh, shut up," Nick returned, but a smile tugged at his lips.

"C'mon, admit it--you never cut a single class. Big ol'Boy Scout like you?" Warrick put a little twang in his voice to really get Nick wound up. "Probably never would have set foot in Sin City _except_ to come and clean it up for us."

"Well, you're wrong there. I went to Vegas for my first vacation from the Dallas Crime Lab."

"Yeah?" Now Warrick's interest was piqued. "I would have liked to have seen that. You all wide-eyed and innocent."

"I was not."

"Hell, you still are." Warrick grinned in spite of Nick's scowl. They needed to do something to kill time and this was actually fun--for him, anyway. "So what happened? No, let me guess--you lost a bundle at the tables, you maxed out your credit cards on booze and table dances and you got so drunk you wound up making out with what you thought was some hottie, but she turned out to be a guy in drag."

"Yep, that's it exactly," Nick returned, his tone drier than Warrick had ever heard it.

"I'm just kidding you, bro," Warrick assured him. "I know it's more like you set yourself a reasonable limit and stuck to it, only looked and didn't even _think_ of touching in the bars, and you would have keeled over at the thought of kissing a guy in drag. It's that more like it?"

Nick let out an exasperated sigh, "You're just not gonna let up on this, are you?"

"Nah," Warrick grinned.

"Well, you're wrong both ways. I set myself a limit but wound up going over a few hundred. I drank, but not in any of the strip joints and--"

Warrick didn't find it really interesting until Nick abruptly stopped instead of replying to his last jibe. Did that mean..? "Oh, no..." This was just too good to be true. "No way. You mistook some guy in drag for a woman?"

"I didn't say that," Nick's expression darkened.

"You didn't have to." After his shock subsided, Warrick fell back on the bed and started to laugh. He knew he was pissing Nick off even more, but he couldn't help it. "Oh, man...what did you do when you found out? Faint?"

"Would you just drop it?"

Warrick decided he would, but wanted to get one more shot in. "I'll bet you high-tailed it back to Texas after that."

"It's a bet you'd lose," Nick replied.

"Yeah?" Warrick knew he sounded dubious--he was even still chuckling a little.

"Yeah," Nick snapped back. "Because he wasn't in drag and I damn well knew he was a guy."

Warrick felt his world tilt on its axis so suddenly that he instinctively grabbed the edge of the bed to keep from falling off. When he regained his equilibrium enough to lift his head, he saw Nick still sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched as if awaiting a blow. Warrick tried to think of something to say that would make Nick feel better, that would let him know that he definitely didn't have a problem with _that._ "Which bar?"

Nick raised his head but didn't turn around. "What?"

"Which bar?"

The tension in Nick's back and shoulders--tension that had been visible despite the many layers of clothing--eased somewhat. "Which bar? That's all you have to say?"

"Actually, my first thought was 'why Vegas?'" Warrick admitted.

Nick finally turned to look at him.

"Because if you were looking for that kind of action, you picked the wrong town."

"Tell me about it. Compared to Dallas it's--wait. What?"

Warrick pushed himself back up into a sitting position. The conversation had suddenly taken on a more serious tone, but damned if he was going to back out. "If Dallas' scene is so much better, why did you have to visit Vegas?"

"My family would have found out, and I didn't--so...you don't have a problem with this?"

"That would make me one hell of a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"

Nick's eyebrows shot up. "You?"

"Sure," Warrick flashed an extra-toothy grin. "Why limit yourself to one kind of hot, right?"

"Right," Nick agreed.

Warrick couldn't understand why Nick sounded so reluctant about it. "What's the matter? You pretty much just said you were bi, too."

"Yeah. I've been with women." That was all Nick said, but the implication was clear.

"Oh," was the most intelligent thing Warrick could come up with. Silence descended, and after several long minutes, Warrick released a deep sigh, noting idly that at least his breath wasn't _too_ visible in the chill air. He cast about for something to say and noticed that Nick seemed to be doing the same. They exchanged a few quick glances and awkward smiles.

"Well," Nick finally said. "This is probably more than either of us ever expected to learn at a forensics conference."

"Shame I didn't know sooner," Warrick chuckled. "You could have learned so much more."

Nick made a scoffing sound, but it was weak at best.

Although the room was still cold, Warrick could now feel a charge in the air. He was definitely a hell of a lot warmer, but he suspected that had little to do with the actual temperature. Even though he had seen Nick half-clothed in the locker room plenty of times, Warrick never thought much about it because he assumed Nick was the straightest of arrows and who needed that hassle? Okay, maybe he'd fantasized about the Texan a couple--or a dozen--times, but that was _it_. Now all he could think about was getting his hands on that lean, sculpted body and all that was separating him from it were a few extra layers of clothing. That, and the possibility that Nick wasn't even remotely interested in him.

Only one way to find out.

Trying to sound as casual and disinterested as he could, Warrick said, "Well, at least now we know we've got a way to keep warm."

In much the same tone, Nick came back with--"You think you're such hot stuff I'm surprised you'd even need to. Hell, I'm suprised you've still got all those clothes on."

That definitely sounded like a move, except that Nick looked a bit surprised at his own words. All Warrick knew was that he had to find out for sure. "You want me to lose the clothes, _Nicky_?" No one except Grissom and Catherine--and occasionally Brass--ever called Nick that and Warrick wanted to see what would happen if he did.

Nick's eyes widened briefly before he caught himself and gave Warrick a slow once over as though seriously considering the question.

Warrick was no stranger to being so blatantly ogled, he'd had people do it and had done it to others more times than he could ever remember, but never had that look from Nick. The only thing remotely close between them always invovled some sorted of challenge and Warrick found himself instinctively gearing up as though for a competition. It was a familiar feeling that sent his blood rushing through his veins, but now there was also a new element heating that blood to the boiling point.

Although Nick hadn't made another move, Warrick knew the calculating expression on his face meant Nick was considering which course of action would give him the advantage. Suddenly deciding he wasn't about to just _give_ Nick the upper hand--he couldn't help smirking at the expression--Warrick grabbed Nick by his coat collar and pulled him in for a kiss.

Their lips had barely met before Nick's hands were under Warrick's jacket, searching out the hem of his shirt. Those hands were cold, but Warrick barely noticed. He was too busy exploring Nick's mouth with his tongue and searching out the buttons of Nick's shirt. Before he'd even gotten to the second button, Nick suddenly moved away, kneeling on the floor next to the bed.

Nick Stokes was someone Warrick competed with on practically a daily basis--for cases, for solve rates, for video game scores and for the best put downs. Theirs might have been a friendly rivalry, but that didn't make it any less intense. At any other time, having Nick in front of him, on the floor, on his _knees_ , would have prompted a multitude of taunts and teasing, but at the moment Warrick's voice simply failed to cooperate.

When he felt nimble fingers unfastening his belt, Warrick just leaned back on his hands and let Nick do his thing. He grimaced slightly when he felt icy air on his cock, but before he had the chance to worry about the effect, a warm, wet tongue ran along the length of it and in the next moment that same warmth surrounded him with the most incredible suction.

There was absolutely no hesitation on Nick's part, which Warrick found surprising in that tiny, far away part of his mind that _wasn't_ overwhelmed by Nick's talented mouth. Nick would draw back until only the very head of Warrick's cock was in his mouth, teasing the slit with his tongue, and leaving the rest exposed to the chill air momentarily before taking nearly the entire length again.

Warrick decided that Nick didn't have much he needed to learn, after all. He didn't say so, of course, mostly because he wasn't capable of anything beyond moans and monosyllables at the moment. He was getting close to the edge and knew he wouldn't be able to last if Nick kept it up, and he was _not_ going to be the guy who got off after letting his partner do all the work. He was never that guy, and he certainly wasn't going to give Nick any reason to tease him about being "hair trigger."

It took a lot of willpower, but Warrick threaded his fingers through Nick's hair and eased him back. "Wait..." he panted. "It's too soon."

Nick sat back on his haunches, wiped one corner of his mouth and crooked a grin up at Warrick. "Y'know, I never figured you for a delayed gratification kinda guy."

"I'm just full of surprises," Warrick returned, grinning as Nick shifted closer. "What do you want?"

Nick's forehead wrinkled in bemusement. "I thought I made that pretty obvious," he said, palming Warrick length again and giving it a few strokes.

Warrick grabbed Nick's wrist with one hand, and tucked himself away slightly with the other--not only to keep Nick from finishing things too soon, but also because he didn't want to risk the cold air having any negative effect. "I've got a couple condoms--"

"Now who's the Boy Scout?" Nick grinned.

"--but lube?"

Instead of replying, Nick easily twisted his wrist free of Warrick's lax grip and grasped Warrick's hand, raising it so he could suck two long fingers into his mouth.

Warrick swallowed hard. "You have a serious oral fixation, don't you?"

Nick let the fingers slide free, "Lucky you."

Grabbing Nick by the coat again, Warrick pulled him closer and up slightly, so the smaller man was flush against him. "I'll tell you one thing," he said after giving Nick a hard kiss. "If we do this, it's gonna have to be under the covers in bed. I'm not gonna risk freezing off anything important for anyone's ass, not even one as great as yours." Whoa. He hadn't meant to say that.

And damned if Nick didn't look embarrassed. "That's what you say now," he barely managed a smirk. 

Warrick knew it was pure bravado, but played along. "Then get up here and prove it."

They didn't climb under the covers immediately, first shedding their boots and coats. Warrick took a condom out of his wallet and left it and the wallet on the night stand. They finally got into bed wearing clothes that were already half-unfastened, and did nothing to keep out the iciness of the sheets, which seemed even colder than the surrounding air. Whether because of that, or because they both suddenly realized what was happening, once they were under the covers, awkwardness descended again.

"Jesus," Nick let out an uncertain laugh. "This bed is _freezing._ "

"C'mon over here and I'll warm you up." Warrick knew the line was corny as hell, but he had to say _something_.

"Man, if you think I'm taking my clothes off, you're crazy." It sounded like Nick's teeth were chattering.

Warrick wasn't about to plead, and wasn't sure that would have worked as well as a jibe, anyway. "Aw, Nicky. I promise I'll be gentle," he teased.

It had the expected effect. "Hey, I can take anything you dish out," Nick said, and pounced.

The removal of each other's clothing was more of a wrestling match than anything else. A playful wrestling match, broken up by groans, deep kisses and the occasional rip of cloth.

"How..?" Warrick managed as Nick began sucking on his fingers again.

Nick mumbled something, then released Warrick's fingers long enough to say--"Like this is good."

_Like this_ was Nick on his back with Warrick lying on top, which is how they ended up after the last piece of clothing was shed. Normally, it wasn't the way Warrick did things on one night stands, but that's not what this was, anyway. Warrick still wasn't sure what exactly it _was_ , but knew it wasn't a typical one night stand. Besides, with the way Nick was moving beneath him, the way those muscular legs tangled with his own, Warrick wasn't about to argue with whatever Nick wanted.

Sliding his hand under Nick's body, Warrick used his slicked fingers to probe between the firm cheeks. Nick let out a series of gasping moans as Warrick found and began to work the tight opening. After a few moments, he removed his hand and insinuated it between their bodies where their cocks were pressed together and coated his finger with precum, using that as extra lubrication.

"Okay...that--God! That's good...that's enough..." Nick panted. "Warrick, for God's sake!"

Warrick kept it up a little longer, enjoying the desperate moans he was able to wring from Nick, but eventually he reached for the condom. It was no easy feat getting the condom on while staying under the blankets and trying not to let any cold air into the warmth their friction had created. Nick wasn't making it any easier, either, with his eager hands and hungry mouth, but Warrick was nothing if not motivated. 

Finally, he was ready and positioned himself while Nick drew his legs up as much as possible. Nick's breath hissed through his teeth when Warrick entered him, but after a moment, he let out a sigh and wrapped his legs around Warrick's hips. 

The cold, the snowstorm and any other worries vanished from Warrick's consciousness and all there was was the silky heat of the body beneath him and the strength of the limbs around him.

"C'mon..." Nick clutched at Warrick's hair, his back, his ass. "C'mon, man..."

"You like that?" Warrick heard himself growling as he increased his pace, encouraged by Nick's flexing legs. "Yeah...just like that..."

Then Nick let out a sharp cry and Warrick felt the wet heat of release between them as Nick's entire body tightened, taking Warrick over the edge with him.

* * *

Warrick stretched his arms and was immediately brought to full wakefulness by the icy cold air. He drew them back under the covers, slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings. Nick, apparently jostled slightly by his sudden movement, sighed and snuffled against his shoulder, making Warrick grin as he recalled the previous night.

They had roused enough to clean themselves up and then had piled every item of clothing on top of the bed, creating a snug nest to fall asleep in. It was a nest Warrick was reluctant to leave, but light was peeking around the edges of the curtain and they had to try getting back to Madison. He checked his watch and sighed. It was only eight o'clock, but there was no telling how long it would take them to get back. He shook Nick, "C'mon, bro. We gotta get going."

"Hmm..?"

"Nick," Warrick shook him a little harder. "Let's go."

"What?" Nick yawned.

"It's morning. We've got to get back to Madison."

The dark eyes blinked opened, then widened as realization hit. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight, but if the roads aren't clear..."

"We have to get going." Nick threw back the covers, yelped and immediately dove back under. "Shit, it's cold!"

Warrick laughed, "Don't be a baby. You've got to get up to get dressed."

"Hell with that," Nick looked over the bed, and quickly darted one arm out to grab his underwear and jeans. "If we got undressed under the covers, we can get dressed under the covers. Jesus, I hate the cold!"

That actually sounded like a good idea, so instead of teasing, Warrick followed his example. Oddly enough, there was none of the awkwardness Warrick had half-expected this morning, or maybe it had just been forestalled by more immediate physical discomfort. As he struggled into his clothes, Warrick couldn't help wondering what this might do to the burgeoning friendship between he and Nick, who had never really struck him as a one-night stand kind of guy. 

Of course, there were a lot of things Nick had never struck him as before last night.

They went to the office to drop off the key, and the manager offered up his bathroom--the only one with running water--for them to use. He also had a pot of coffee and styrofoam cups for everyone. The only other "guests" they ran into were a family of four that had been traveling in the opposite direction, and Nick chatted amiably with them while they waited their turn for the bathroom.

Finally, they were in the rental and on their way. Although it was still slow going on the current road, their "host" told them that the main road would probably be cleared.

"You sure you don't want me to drive?" Nick asked after they had been traveling only fifteen minutes.

"Don't start with me."

"Seriously, going this slow must be messing with your mind. I've seen you drive in Vegas."

"I mean it, Stokes," Warrick warned, but couldn't keep from grinning, unable to believe he'd been worried sleeping together would change things. He really had to learn not to underestimate Nick Stokes--in more ways than one.

Then his grin widened when he realized there was still another night of convention left.

  


END


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